Destiel & Cockles Drabbles
by KeepsakeKey
Summary: A series of Destiel/Cockles drabbles. Dean x Castiel and Jensen x Misha. Now rated M!
1. Author Note

**This fanfiction is a collection of small fics that I write.**

**Each fic will be around 300 - 1000 words.  
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**These fics will be based on Dean x Castiel / Jensen x Misha.  
**

**All of these fics have been requested by people, and the prompt they give me is listed before the fic itself.  
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**If you wish to send me a prompt of your own, feel free to do so, as I always need more prompts.  
**

**Please note that I cannot write fics that go directly with the story line, as I am not caught up on Supernatural.  
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**I also know little to nothing about Jensen and Misha, except for panels, so yeah.  
**

**My tumblr name is: KeepsakeKey  
**

**If you wish to give me a prompt, then Ask on there.  
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**Or, just put it in with your review and I'll get to it!  
**

**Thank you for reading! 3  
**


	2. Second Guessing

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**This takes place after 5x16, when Dean gives up his Faith.**

* * *

'There is no God. Some times, bad things happen for no reason, other than to create chaos and destruction.'

Dean thought of himself as naive. He was better off back then, believing that there was no God. Now he knew, sure, there was a God out there. But that God had no plans on saving them from all the bad in the world. God was just pushing them along, sending them on their merry way.

Dean had always told himself that if there was a God, then he didn't give a shit about them. Then Castiel came along, giving him some faith. A lot of good that faith was doing him, now.

"God dammit!" Dean yelled as he threw his bag of belongings into the back of the Impala, hearing it bang up against the side. Any other time he'd be careful with his baby, but he wasn't in the best of moods.

Since Sam seemed to be taking his sweet ass time in the motel, probably waiting for Dean to calm down, he got into the driver's seat and just sat there, hands on the steering wheel, keys in his palm.

They had spent months looking for God, hoping that he'd save the, help them defeat Lucifer. So far, it seemed like God was the bad one in this scenario.

The man let out a ragged breath and leaned forward, his forehead hitting the top of the wheel. He closed his eyes, trying to calm down, his grip on the leather becoming tight enough to make his knuckles white.

'We can still find a way,' Sam said.

A way for what? If they were so far gone that even God has given up, what was the point?


	3. Trenchcoat

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: Dean has been looking for something to replace that trenchcoat for forever.**

* * *

For three years Castiel had been walking around in the same trenchcoat. Dirty, ripped, some blood here and there. It was a wonder why people didn't run screaming as soon as they saw the Angel.

Dean honestly didn't even know why he had kept the damned thing and given it back to him. He should have burnt it, gotten him something else when he suddenly poofed back onto Earth. But alas, he had given the trenchcoat back, and now had to deal with the smelly thing every time Castiel got too close to him. Which, lets admit it, was more times often than not.

However, the night that Dean had woken up in his motel bed only to smell Castiel standing next to him was the last straw. "What the hell, man!" Dean recoiled away from the Angel, his nose scrunched up.

Castiel tilted head in silent confusion, his eyebrows drawn together.

Not even worrying about why the Angel was standing over him as he slept, Dean let a growl trickle from his throat. "That is it. I'm buying you a new fucking coat."

The hunter threw back the covers and stood, only having to put on his shoes since he fell asleep with his clothes on.

"I do not understand. Why do I need a new coat? This one functions quite well."

Dean glared at Castiel as he snatched the keys to the Impala from the night table. "Because it smells like shit, that's why. Now come on, Walmart is open."

He stomped out to the Impala, letting Cas poof into the seat, and headed for Wally-World.

Once they got there Dean headed straight towards the Men's clothes, ignoring the too-happy-for-two-in-the-morning workers that waved as they walked by. He told Castiel to take off the trenchcoat while he pawed through the coats that Walmart had.

Windbreakers would just look silly on the Angel, as would a heavy hoodie. His eyes skipped over countless shitty coats until they fell on a pitch-black leather jacket. He grabbed it and handed it over to Cas silently, who stared at the leather for a moment before pulling it on.

Dean was almost floored. He blinked a few times, letting the image before him really settle in. Where the trenchcoat had pulled away from the assemble of clothes, making Castiel look like some whacked out accountant, the leather jacket made him look like a high-class business man going out to party.

The blue tie accentuated the look nicely, giving the entire thing some colour and making the Angel's eyes all the sharper.

Dean swallowed past the lump in his throat and nodded. "Yeah, we're getting you that."

Cas glanced down at the leather, rubbing it between his fingers. "It smells like cow hide."

"It's fine."


	4. Thursday

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: AU Dean is living in the middle of nowhere, cut off from the rest of the world when a meteor hits down in his field. Instead of a giant glowing rock from space, he finds an unconscious angel with broken wings.  
**

* * *

It was a nice November night out; the clouds were thin, the stars were shining brightly, and it wasn't too cold. With no city lights to block the view, the Heavens look amazing.

This is one of the reasons why Dean lived out in middle of nowhere, way out in the country side, somewhere in Washington. Washington's entire state is comprised of long stretches of uninterrupted land, miles and miles between the nearest house. He chose to live out here in order to get some space between his family; his broken father and his addicted little brother. There's only so much a person can handle before they've had enough.

So Twenty-Five year old Dean had packed up what little he owned, grabbed the money he had made from the autoshop, and took off on the road. He also took the only good thing his father had: the Impala. Not much use for it out in middle of nowhere, but it was still nice to look at.

Dean had everything he needed here. Food, growing in a garden. Cable, though it was a bit steep in price. Beer, even if the nearest store that sold it was nearly one-quarter a tank of gas. He didn't need anything else in life. Did he?

He had closed his eyes for a moment when he suddenly heard something, something ripping through the air. His eyes shot open as he looked around and then up, gasping as he saw what looked like a meteor falling from the sky. He jumped up from his spot on his porch, trying to follow where it would land.

Before he got into the Impala, he glanced over at the house, unsure of if he should call someone. But who do you call when a meteor fell down on your land? He frowned and put the car in drive, heading towards the fallen object.

"Shit!" He pressed down hard on the brakes as the object fell into the ground, the pressure of it meeting the car and almost pushing it backward. He didn't want to get the thing broken, so he got out and began walking.

It was only a minute or two until Dean could see the giant hole in the ground, the Earth bent and pushed out of the object's way. He hesitated at the end of it, but figured that if it were radioactive or anything then he probably should have thought of that before he drove out to meet it.

Dean took a steadying breath and moved forward, sliding down the steep incline, the object hidden in the dark. He stumbled over something large on the ground and fell onto his ass, growling.

When he opened his eyes he got a shock in which he would never believe if not for the fact that it was right here. There was a man in the dirt, lying in front of him. Apparently the fall meant nothing, because there wasn't a scratch on him.

Skin pale white, hair dark and tousled, stubble on his chin.

Dean leaned forward with the intent to touch the man on the side of the face when he once again touched something on the ground. He blinked and glanced down, and something that sounded quite like "God!" came out of his throat.

Wings.

Large black wings, spread out on either side of the man. They were obviously broken and torn, some of the feathers ripped away.

Dean's first thought isn't that he's going insane. It isn't that there's a fucking Angel right in front of him. No, his first thought is: Who would do something so hideous to such a beautiful creature?

Dean leaned down once more to touch the man's face, barely brushing the stubble when the Angel's eyes shot open, his chest rising in a great intake of breath.

He jumped from the shock, shock from the fact that the Angel woke up or the striking blue eyes, he'd never know.

"W-who are you?"

The Angel tried to speak and found that he couldn't, wincing against some sort of pain. He licked his lips before trying again. "Castiel."

Dean quickly went through his mental list of everything he had ever learned in his attempts to find God when his father got too drunk.

Castiel. The Angel of Thursday.


	5. CPR

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Jensen x Misha****  
**

**Prompt: ****During the Jibcon panel, Jensen saw that Misha was a licensed EMT. He fell to the ground, and instead of just laughing at him, Misha walked over to preform CPR.**  


* * *

Jensen had been laughing at Misha's old resume for a solid five minutes, completely embarrassing his co-star. But when he came upon EMT on the list, he actually felt a little respect for the guy. Because hey, everyone could ride a bike, but not everyone was a licensed EMT.

So when he buckled his knees and fell to the floor as a joke, he hadn't really expected Misha to actually perform his civic duties right there on stage.

But true to that damned paper clutched in his hand, Misha sauntered on over, got down on his knees, and put his hands over Jensen's chest.

Misha wasn't stupid, and he wouldn't actually do the chest compressions; while actually giving CPR it was to be expected to have a couple of cracked or broken ribs afterward. Instead, he just lightly pressed down, counting to ten out loud (instead of the required twenty), moved his hands back to bend Jensen's head back (opening up the airway), and leaned down.

All the fans started screaming as Misha pressed his lips onto the other man's, but fake-CPR certainly wasn't a kiss. Hell, real CPR wasn't close, either. His forefinger and thumb kept Jensen's nose closed while he breathed into his mouth, watching as his chest rose with the extra air.

And when he pulled back, Jensen rolled to his side, coughing and sputtering just like the true-actor he was.

Misha stood up and reached out his hand, Jensen grabbing it and allowing himself to be pulled up. The fans still screaming about the "kiss," Misha gave his co-star a wink.


	6. Shoe Laces

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: Castiel was recently made human, and he has no idea how to tie his shoes.  
**

* * *

When Sammy was a kid, John wasn't around a lot. This should come to no surprise to anyone, as their father had always skipped out on them while they were growing up. Of course he was off hunting evil and all, but when they were little they didn't full understand that. Especially Sammy.

So Dean had to do everything for his little brother. Make him breakfast in the morning, get him dressed, pack his lunch, help him off to school (when they attended). None of this had really gotten to the older Winchester before.

Until one day, when Sammy was about four, the boy walked up to Dean, his expression looking like someone had just kicked his puppy, his eyes watery and wide. When Dean had jumped up, wanting to know what was wrong, his little brother blubbered out, "I can't tie my shoes."

Dean had always done it for him, and he hadn't realized that Sam might actually need to learn how to do it himself.

Which is why, twenty years later, he was staring down at yet another pair of ridiculously striking eyes as they pleaded up at him. Only difference between the two pairs of eyes, besides the colour, was that as an Angel Castiel never cried; he wasn't going to let going human suddenly change that.

Dean glanced down at the man's feet, his lips tugging up in a smirk. "You can't tie your shoes? Dude, you're in your 30s."

Castiel frowned at him. "Jimmy Novak is the one in his 30s, not myself." He paused for a moment, as if knowing that Dean would never let him live his next words down. "I... have never had to tie my shoes before. I could simply just... will them tied, with my Grace."

Dean, God help him, had to put a hand to his mouth to stifle an uncharacteristic giggle. "Well, at least you got your pants on," he joked, moving forward the whole three inches of space that was between them to push Castiel lightly on the chest, making him move backwards.

When Castiel had lost his Angelic powers and been made into a human, it didn't seem to much except take away... well, all his Angelic powers. He was still Castiel: confused, not easily amused, too blunt, and without boundaries when it came to personal space. However, the last may have to do with him not really having any personal space since his Grace was taken away, as Dean and Sam were almost always around to help him with something.

Though the shoes was a first.

Castiel sat down on the edge of the bed when he knees hit it, watching as Dean bent down in front of him and propped his foot up on his knee. He held the strings of his dress shoes in his fingers, looking up into the blue eyes.

"Now, you're going to watch this and learn how to do it. I'm not gonna be tyin' your shoes every morning."

Castiel simply nodded. "I am watching."

The hunter rolled his eyes but focused on the shoe laces, concentrating on making the most perfect knot he's made in his entire life. "Then you loop, loop under... and pull! There!"

Dean leaned back and patted the top of the shoe after admiring his work, looking up at Castiel. "Now you try."

As the now-human man bent down to attempt to tie his own shoe, Dean put his hand in front of his mouth again, this time to hide his affectionate smile.


	7. Yoga

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: End Verse fic, Its 2012 Cas already lost his mojo and he recently got into yoga. After a stressful day Dean stumbles into Cas cabin. Cas teaches him some yoga figures to release Deans tension.  
**

* * *

Things were not going well for Dean Winchester. The autoshop he had started almost burnt down that day because of some newbie messing with things he had no idea how to properly use, and his "girlfriend" of two months dumped him. He had been feeling quite shitty, so after putting out the fire and breaking his phone, he went to the bar and got a little drunk.

Which is how he managed to find himself in front of Castiel's cabin out in middle of no where.

After they had pretty much saved the world, Castiel was made a human. Sam went off to actually do something with his life, and Dean went back to Lawrence, Kansas. Castiel, not knowing anyone else in the world, decided to stay with Dean. Although there was a good ten minutes of drive in between their houses, Dean was the closest house to Castiel's, who had some how managed to find the most out-of-the-way house that the state had.

Dean didn't bother on knocking at the door, instead just turning the handle and letting himself in. He blinked at the sight of Castiel's ass greeting him.

The older man turned his head towards the door before straightening up. "Dean. What are you doing here?" Dean didn't get a chance to open his mouth before the ex-Angel frowned at him. "You have been drinking."

His eyes skipped down to the keys in Dean's hand. "And driving, it appears." His eyes narrowed slightly, and Dean shrugged.

"Sorry," he mumbled, putting the keys on the table next to the door and walking in. "Bad day." He dropped himself onto the couch, letting his head fall back.

Castiel moved so that he was in front of Dean, his expression carefully blank. "I am not surprised that you have been drinking, however. You have been quite stressed as of late."

Dean let out a dry chuckle. "You're telling me, man."

Castiel grabbed at the mechanic's hands, pulling him up off of the couch. "I know what will help. Yoga."

Dean gave his friend a look. "I'm not doing yoga."

"It will help." Castiel gave him that look he always seemed to give Dean, the one that said everything and yet nothing all at once. "Trust me."

And how could he say no to that? Castiel had saved his life more than once, and he probably trusted the guy more than he trusted Sam. So, he sighed. "Whatever."

Dean allowed himself to be pulled around the couch and to the floor behind it, where Castiel had been when he first walked into the cabin. He didn't have enough time to open his mouth to speak before Castiel put one hand at the small of his back, the other at the back of his neck, and pushed him down into a bending position.

"What the hell!"

Castiel held him there, even as Dean turned his head as best as he could to glare at him.

"Warn a guy, would you? You don't just bend a guy over," he grumbled.

Castiel rolled his eyes and let go of Dean. "Stay like that." He moved next to the ex-hunter before going into the same position. He didn't need any time to stretch himself out, but he waited until Dean wasn't so tense before leaning forward and pressing the palms of his hands against the floor.

When Castiel looked over at Dean, he raised his eyebrows. "I can't even do that when I'm completely sober."

He got a, "You'll be fine" in return, and blue eyes bore into him until he sighed and put his palms to the rug, having to stretch out farther than Castiel since he wasn't as limber.

This continued for a few positions, most of them making Dean highly uncomfortable, until Castiel finally gave him one he simply couldn't do. Dean fell onto his ass, wincing as he hit his tailbone, and sighed. "Alright. I'm done"

Castiel, who had been standing in front of him, bent at the knees and tilted his head to the side. He did that soul-gazing thing he was known for before speaking. "You have not thought about your day since we began." He gave one of his rare smiles. "Yoga is not just about the body."

Dean shifted on the floor, letting out a laugh. "I guess not. Though admittedly, it might be easier when I'm not drunk."

"You are no longer intoxicated," Castiel stated, causing Dean to stare at him questioningly. He sighed lightly and leaned forward until he could feel Dean's breath on his face. "You no longer smell of alcohol. You are fine now."

Dean stopped breathing for a moment, Castiel being so close giving him the time to look him over. Over the months, Castiel has never expressed any emotions towards how they were living now, or how he felt to be apart from his brothers and sisters for good. But his eyes were a bright, clear, blue, he had no bags under his eyes, and there were no signs of him being unhappy.

Dean let a smile grow on his face, Castiel mirroring it. "Yeah, I guess I am fine," he whispered.


	8. Fans

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Jensen x Misha  
**

**Prompt: Jealous!Jensen/Misha - Jensen's been denying his attraction to Misha since the pseudo-angel's first day on set. Now, though, the non-serious, casual flirting between Misha and Jared during the latest convention has Jensen snapping.  
**

* * *

Staring at the fans flocking around Misha, Jensen felt a growl work its way up his throat. He had been almost completely ignoring is own fans, simply nodding and automatically signing everything that was pushed at him. His eyes were too busy being trained on Misha's side, where him and one fan after another took pictures together. Each fan seemed to press closer and closer to the man, and it was knocking on Jensen's last nerve.

He tried to push it off as being concerned for his friend, but Misha didn't seem the least uncomfortable. He wasn't edging the fans on, but he wasn't pushing them away, either.

The co-stars had flirted throughout the entire panel, and Jensen had hoped to continue that when they got to their booth. But the fans seemed to want to hog Misha all to themselves.

As a particularly busty female fan pressed herself so close to Misha's chest he swore he could hear what little fabric she was wearing stretch, he swore softly to himself, stood up from the booth with enough force to push the chair back, and stalked on over there.

All the fans that had been paying attention to him seemed to freeze, holding their breath as Jensen walked over to the two. The woman had somehow gotten her arms up around Misha's neck, their chests pressed together.

Jensen put on the most hostile smile he could, only having to put his fingers between Misha's neck and the woman's hands and pull in order for her grip to break. She stumbled back, somehow managing to right herself on her four-inch heels.

"Jensen?" Misha turned his head over his shoulder as the man grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling him into his chest. "What's wrong?"

The woman glared at him: apparently she was not a Jensen fan. "Hey!"

Jensen tilted his head slightly, the hostile smile still on his face. "I think that's enough. If you want someone to grope on, go to the red light district: I'm sure someone there will take you."

The fan's face got beat red, opening her mouth to say something, but a security guard touched her elbow. "Excuse me, ma'am. This way." She was forced to huff and follow the guard.

Misha turned around, still staying close to Jensen, his eyebrows pulled together. "You alright?"

"Didn'twanthertouchingyou," Jensen grumbled.

Misha blinked. "What?"

"I didn't want her touching you!" He tried to ignore the heat he could feel on his face.

A slow smile crept over Misha's face as the seconds ticked by. "Come on." He grabbed Jensen by the wrist, turning to wink at the fans before dragging the man off.

The hoards of fans didn't know what to do: continue to stare without breathing, or to scream their heads off.


	9. Alcohol

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel****  
**

**Prompt: Castiel gets drunk and handsy, and Dean gets curious.**

* * *

Getting drunk had always been one of Dean's favourite things in life, which should come to no surprise. However, he had only seen Castiel get drunk a hand-full of times, mostly because the Angel required so much alcohol that it was insane.

Castiel and Dean had been going around hunting on their own, Sam off on his own little hunt. Dean was attempting to do some research on the laptop to find out about this spirit he thought was haunting a school, Cas out to get some food.

Which is why, hours later, when Castiel finally stumbled into the motel, Dean was surprised. His first thought was that Cas totally didn't have any food in his hands. His second thought was along the lines of "Oh shit Angel falling!" and running over to catch Castiel before he fell to the ground.

If not for the obvious rank smell of alcohol emitting itself off of the Angel, Dean would have checked the guy over for any wounds. As it was, Dean scrunched up his nose, pulling Castiel up and dumping him on the bed.

"Where did you even find enough booze to get yourself wasted?"

Castiel attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, giving up after a full minute and instead resigning himself to being slumped awkwardly. "B-bar."

Dean rose his eyebrows, a bit curious as to how the Angel paid for his drinking habit, but he knew that if Cas didn't have the motor functions to sit himself up, he wouldn't have the brain capacity to answer such a 'complex' question.

The Winchester shook his head and leaned over his friend, pulling the trenchcoat off of his arms and sliding it from under him. Now instead of a drunk stalker, Castiel looked like a drunk office worker. He chuckled and reached down to untie the shoes, but stopped when Castiel made a very... male-motion as his hand passed the front of his dress slacks.

Cas had lifted his hips up the couple of inches between Dean's hand and the front of his pants, sighing at the friction.

Dean blinked but didn't move his hand, allowing the Angel to rub himself against his palm a few more times before a light blush spread across his face. Either Castiel was super out of it, or he had no idea what he was doing.

"Hmm. You seem to be pretty human at the moment." He wondered if the alcohol had leaked into his Grace, or something.

Castiel made a whimper-like sound as the hunter moved his hand away. Dean bent down, one of his hands on the other side of Cas's head as he breathed along his neck.

When Castiel responded with a shiver, a smirk grew on Dean's face. Staying in his bent position, he licked Cas's bottom lip, his hand moving from the bed and down the Angel's body, slipping under the waist-band of his dress pants.

Cas let out a breathy groan as Dean grabbed the base of his cock, his hips lifting up again. Dean let out a chuckle and reached his free hand up to pull Castiel's jaw down so he could rub their tongues together, pulling out long strokes.

As Dean moved his mouth down to the expanse of neck, sucking and nibbling lightly with the intent of leaving a small mark, Castiel started panting. He let his hand pause a the head of the Angel's cock, playing with it and relishing the feel of him shuddering against him.

Castiel reached up and grabbed at the back of Dean's shirt as his hand worked faster, Cas pushing his hips up in time with his strokes. He let out a broken moan and his body tightened, then shuddered as he came onto Dean's hand.

The Angel's hand fell from Dean's shirt onto his own chest, which rose and fell quickly with his panting.

Dean pulled his hand from his friend's pants, who had quickly passed out. He put his hand up to his face, licking one of his fingers before grinning down at the Angel.

"Well. I'll have to get you drunk more often."


	10. Spanking

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel****  
**

**Prompt: ****Cas pisses Dean off and Dean spanks him.**  


* * *

Dean Winchester has a short list of things that piss him off to no end.

This list includes:  
-Almost Dying (Which happened much more often then he would hope)  
-Actually Dying (Also happened more than he was comfortable with)  
-Castiel (There's not really a way around this one)

Although Castiel has certainly helped dwindle the first two down, he also quickly made it onto the list for being such a prick. And if he wasn't being a prick, then he was being curious and totally un-cute about not knowing something.

They had been in Navada for two days now, trying to figure out what was going on in the town. A couple of kids went missing over the past few months, none of them yet to be found. Sam and Dean couldn't find what it was, but Castiel insisted that it was something Supernatural. The brothers had been taking turns going out and searching the nearby area for any changes over the past couple of days.

Castiel frowned at him from his place on the couch as Dean paced back and fourth across the motel room. "You have made no progress."

Dean glared at the Angel. "I'm aware of that, Chuckles."

Castiel's lips tilted further down at the ungodly nickname, but he didn't comment on it. "We have been here for two days."

Dean groaned in frustration, sat down on the bed and pointed at Castiel. "That's it. Get over here."

The Angel blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Come over here."

Completely confused, Castiel stood up from the couch and walked over to the man, stopping in front of him.

To his credit, he didn't react when Dean reached out and grabbed him before pushing him down across his lap, face-down. "I do not understand. What is this?"

Dean narrowed his eyes at the man on his lap. "You remember the Pizza Man? You were so Goddamn _curious_ about it, I might as well fill you in: The 'hitting' is called 'spanking.' The Pizza Man used it to turn the girl on, but you're pissing me off to no end with your bitching!"

"I am not a female dog, I do not-" Castiel's words got cut off when Dean hit him on the backside, hard. "What are-"

"We" slap "will" slap "finish" slap "this" slap "case" slap "whenever" slap "we" slap "want!" slap.

Dean went silent, huffing a little, his hand red. "That's your punishment for complaining."

Still draped across his lap, Castiel frowned. "I can see how that would work on humans. I did not find that pleasant."


	11. Stars and Dreams

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel****  
**

**Prompt: ****Cas stays with the brothers one night for protection, and while he and Dean are looking at the stars, Dean falls asleep, waking up in Cas's arms the next morning.**

* * *

It was one of those rare times when Sam and Dean went to go visit Bobby's place. It only happened once in a while, but they were going by there anyway and had nothing better to do.

Dean was in the backyard looking up at the stars, something that he didn't get to do nearly as often as he would like. He enjoyed looking at the stars, but they were usually in some city with lights way too bright to see any. It was one of the reasons why he secretly loved coming to visit Bobby; the old man barely ever had one light on in the entire house at once, so he had no problems with being able to see the night sky.

Dean had snuck outside to be by himself, leaving Sam to catch Bobby up on everything that has been going on recently. He had ust closed his eyes when he heard a faint rustle, and he spoke without opening them. "What's up, Cas?"

The Angel in question looked down at Dean for a moment before sitting down next to him. He knew of Dean's secret when it came to the stars, though he would never come right out and say it. The Winchester seemed to hold it quite dear to him.

Castiel kept his eyes trained on Dean's face, like he normally did. "I am here to protect you. I have gotten word that something may be after you and Sam."

That got Dean's attention, and he opened his eyes to look at Cas, a frown on his face. "Do you know what?"

Castiel shook his head, moving his gaze up to the stars. "That is why I am here. It could easily be something you can fight yourself, but I am here just in case."

Dean, a bit surprised that Cas had managed to put so many words together, chuckled lightly. "Well, alright. As long as you're here, watch the stars."

As he closed his eyes, Castiel managed to not comment on the fact that Dean couldn't watch the stars if he were not looking.

After only a few minutes, Dean fell asleep. True to his word about protecting him, Cas lied down next to the man, his eyes still on the Heavens above him. "I will always protect you, Dean. Whether you need it or not," he whispered, knowing that Dean couldn't hear him.

He let his eyes fall closed, and even though Angels could not sleep, he let himself be pulled into his expanse of his memories, the closest things to dreams he could have.

The next morning, when the sun reached over the Earth and presented itself to them, Dean shifted, his breathing pattern changing.

Castiel looked down at the hunter. "Good morning, Dean."

Dean blinked himself a wake, and then blinked more when he noticed he was half lying across Castiel, the Angel's arms wrapped around him. He hesitated before pulling away from him. "How the hell did that happen?"

Ignoring the blasphemy, Castiel shrugged. "You moved onto me in middle of the night."

Dean frowned but didn't say anything about it, getting up off of the ground and running a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to fall asleep out here." He rolled his shoulders before heading towards the house, glancing behind him as he walked. "Come on, I'm sure Bobby has coffee made."

Castiel sat on the grass a little while longer, watching his charge walk away. The memories he used in place of his dreams were ones of Dean, and he held them fondly.

The Angel wondered what Dream dreamed about at night.


	12. Praying

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Prompt: Dean has an emotional moment after Castiel walks into the lake.  
**

* * *

The moment in which Castiel is completely covered in water, Dean dropped to his knees. He stared at the water, his mind somehow both blank and chaotic at the same time.

He doesn't know how long he's there, kneeling. Sam must have left him, because when he finally has enough brain function to look around him, his little brother is gone.

Dean pulled himself up to his feet, wobbly, and takes the few stumbling steps needed to get to the end of the lake. His eyes search the spot in which Castiel went down, willing the Angel to break through the surface.

When he doesn't, he looks down at the water directly in front of him. Vaguely, he thinks that it must be raining, or so the drips hitting the water tells him, even though he can't feel any rain hitting his shoulders.

Castiel walked into the lake. Sacrificed himself. For Dean. Dean's eyes close as he takes a shuddering breath. Why is Castiel always the one doing the sacrificing? He rebelled against God, for Dean. He fell from Heaven, for Dean. He searched Hell, for Dean. He fought against his brothers and sisters, for Dean.

Dean let out a shuddering breath as he leaned forward, his arm going into the water. He searched, the pathetic hopeful part of him searching for an arm, something to pull up. Instead, his hand caught onto a heavy piece of fabric.

When he pulled Castiel's trenchcoat out, a sob ripped out of his throat, unbidden. He pulled the coat up to his face, pressing it against his eyes.

And for one of the first times in his life -"God, please, please give him back"- Dean prayed.


	13. Deal

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Prompt: Castiel makes a deal with God in order to ease Dean's pain. (Idea from Placebo's Running Up That Hill)  
**

**Note: This doesn't really take place in any season or episode. I'm in season 5, so I apologize if this is similar to something that's already happened, or if they never even see God, or what. Just take it like it is.  
**

**Note 2: Also, PLEASE go check the 1st chapter again! If you wish to leave me a prompt, then put it in a review or put it in my tumblr ask box.  
**

* * *

Dean was having one of his moments.

Not the moments where he's drunk, or hungry, or horny, or angry.

No, one of the moments where he was just... empty.

He never laughed anymore, hardly ever giving a real smile. He was on autopilot, his heart no longer in anything.

Sam already tried to talk to him, but Dean just shook his head and pulled away, going back to looking at the wall, or out the window.

Castiel had tried giving him food, but the hunter didn't react to it. He even sat down in front of him and stared him, getting into his personal space. Dean didn't push him away and complain.

It took a while for the Angel to understand what was wrong with his human charge. When he tried to ask Sam about it, the younger brother wouldn't answer him.

Castiel stood in front of Dean, who was sitting on the bed. "Dean, please." He lifted up his hand, touching the side of the human's face lightly. "Is it... Hell again?"

When Dean pulled away roughly, Castiel let his hand drop down to his side, his expression turning pained. He hated when Dean pulled away from him. If it were in anger, then he could deal with that. But not in pain. It was his job to erase the man's pain, and he was failing.

"I will fix this, Dean. I promise." Castiel took one more look at Dean before turning and walking out of the motel room, Sam watching him.

The Angel went behind the building, his eyes on the sky above him. He took a deep breath before speaking. "God, please. It's Castiel. I... I need your help."

He waited a few moments before trying again. "I wish to make a deal."

Castiel sensed the change almost as soon as he finished speaking. The air around him became heavier, pushing on him as if gravity decided to give up.

There was a flash of light, and suddenly God was in front of him. He had no vessel, and instead was just a flare of brightness. Castiel put his hand in front of his face, the light almost blinding.

"I do not usually make deals, Castiel." The voice was light, airy, but had a strongness to it.

The Angel nodded. "I know, but please." When God didn't respond, he ground his teeth together. "If you do not make the deal, then I will go to a Crossroad's Demon, instead."

God let out an exasperated breath. "You are that serious about this?"

"I am."

"Alright, then. What is it that you want?"

Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. "I... I want to take Dean's memories. Of Hell."

God hesitated. "Why?"

"They plague him. It is too much for his human mind. And I believe it is breaking him." Castiel dropped his hand, forcing himself to look at the shining light. "It is my job to fix him."

"Hmm. Are you sure about this, Castiel? Hell is not to be taken lightly."

Castiel glanced away. "I am aware. Please, God. I-I need to help Dean."

God's light dimmed slightly. "Very well."

As a shape of a hand reached out to him, the Angel tensed, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt the light grab his head, and then the memories pushed into it.

It was horrifying.

Castiel gasped and fell to his knees, his eyes snapping open at the pain that filled him. He felt a sound come out of his mouth as his head went back, feeling every cut of a knife, every breaking of bone.

Dimly, he felt God's light pool around him before disappearing. "I hope that it is worth it, my son."

Castiel fell forward, numbly putting his hands out to catch himself. He pulled in a sharp breath, his mind going to one of the memories he had of Dean smiling. "It will be," he whispered, answering God's question.

Because Dean would smile again.


	14. Blue Sky

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Prompt: Dean: "Do you know why the sky is so gray?"  
**

**Cas: "No, why?"  
**

**Dean: "Because all the blue is in your eyes."  
**

* * *

Dean sighed as he leaned into the Angel, a smile on his face. His arms wrapped around Castiel's waist, his head just slightly bent so that his face was against the other man's hair.

Castiel tilted his head slightly, his hands moving up to Dean's hips, a curious expression on his face. "What is it, Dean?"

The hunter shrugged. "It's a nice day out, I figured we could take the day off, for once."

It was a Thursday, and November was ending. There was a calming breeze, and the air smelled of rain. The sky was gray, clouds forming to release their water.

"It's about to storm," the Angel replied, moving back just enough so he could look up at Dean.

Dean moved his hands up to cup the Angel's face, his lips forming a soft smile. "Do you know why the sky is so gray, Cas?"

Castiel blinked, opening his mouth before closing it again. Surely Dean didn't want a long speech about the color spectrum. "No, why?"

The hunter let out a deep chuckle, his head tilting down so that his forehead rested against Castiel's. "Because all the blue is in your eyes."

It took a moment for Castiel to get it, but when he did he smiled. "You know, the sea used to be a pure green."

The Angel leaned up, pressing his lips to Dean's in a soft kiss.


	15. Darkness

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Prompt: Castiel rapes Dean in a dark alley.  
**

**Warning: Rape, Demon!Castiel  
**

* * *

Dean wasn't ready for the sharp blow to his head. Then again, he wasn't ready for the press of Castiel's body against his, either. When Castiel put his lips on top of Dean's, Dean jerked his head back, effectively busting it against the brick wall of the building he was against.

He let out a groan, and Castiel took that moment to press his tongue inside of his mouth. Dean tried to push him away, but as an Angel Castiel was stronger than anything he'd ever seen. As a Demon, it seemed like Cas was even stronger.

Honestly, Dean could have handled it if it was just kissing. Because even though Cas was a guy, he was still Cas. But it seemed that Demon Castiel didn't want just kissing; one of his hands found its way down to his ass, where he cupped one cheek and squeezed.

"C-Cas!" Dean was able to slip one his arms out from between their bodies, punching Castiel in the face.

The Demon paused for a moment before looking at him. "You will respect me," he growled, before pinning the hunter's wrists above his head.

Castiel had broken. He had fought too hard, died too many times, fallen too far from Heaven, his mind too shattered. Eventually, and recently, it seemed he didn't just fall to Earth, but to Hell. Cas had shown up one day, eyes black as night.

Sam and Dean had kept him locked up for as long as possible, but it seemed as if part of Castiel's Angel side was still in there somewhere, and he soon figured out how to use it to his advantage.

Sometimes Cas was the quiet, shy, but blunt Angel that Dean knew. Other times Cas was filled with hatred and rage, the Demon coming to the surface.

"Cas, stop!" Dean's voice rose as he went from angry to scared, Castiel ripping his pants open and shoving the fabric down to his knees.

Cas turned him around, shoving him hard into the brick face first. His hands were still locked in a death grip, though the hand against his ass had removed itself.

As he heard Castiel unzipping his pants, Dean tried to put all of his strength into throwing himself back. It only earned him an irritated grunt before he felt one of Cas' fingers pushing into him.

He cried out, recoiling from it, pushing himself as close to the wall as possible. Castiel took that moment of weakness to press himself against Dean's body, back-to-chest.

Dean bit down on his bottom lip as Castiel probed inside of him, pushing in and out before removing the finger all together. He almost sobbed in relief before he felt something much bigger than a finger press against him.

"Cas, please," he whimpered as the Demon pushed, inch by inch, into him. He felt himself tearing, tensing as his body tried to repel Castiel.

Castiel removed his hand from Dean's wrists, palming the hunter's ass cheeks in order to pull them apart for easier access.

Not having the strength to fight back, Dean's hands pressed against the wall, his nails ripping as he clawed at the brick. When Castiel shoved the last bit of himself inside of him, he let out a scream.

As Dean's mind registered an amused chuckle from Castiel, his body froze, the only movement being the tears running down his cheeks. His Castiel, his Angel, was in there somewhere, wasn't he?

Cas leaned his head forward to press his lips against Dean's neck, and the hunter let out a broken "Cas." The Demon smirked against his skin. "Angel's not here anymore."

Castiel thrust hard and quick into Dean, the blood from the torn muscle acting as lubricant. He was almost silent as he did it, listening to the screams ripping from Dean's throat.

When he came, Castiel bit down on Dean's neck, drawing blood. He lapped at it as he pulled out of the human.

The Demon backed up a couple of steps, tucking himself back into his pants and buttoning the fabric as Dean slid down the wall, falling and having to lean into it for support.

Dean looked back at him, blood dripping down his thighs and tears running down his face. His voice hoarse and cracked from screaming, he managed to get out "Why?"

Castiel's face turned into the curious but blank mask that he used to have, before breaking out into a twisted smirk. "I'm sorry, Dean."

The Demon walked away chuckling, leaving Dean in the alley.


	16. Angel Kitty

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Summary: Castiel's human vessel is out of commission, so he has to make due with another one for a while.  
**

**Warning: Extreme cuteness.  
**

* * *

If it's one thing Dean was not expecting when he stumbled into Bobby's kitchen, it was a cat sitting on the kitchen table.

He stared at it for a moment, confused, before walking over and looking over at the back door, which was closed. "Umm. Kitty?"

The cat looked to be about six or seven weeks old, probably not even old enough to be away from it's mother, and was bright white fur, with what could pass as black globs of paint covering random parts.

He reached out to remove the thing from the table when the kitten suddenly turned around and fixed him with such a shocking stare that he actually jumped back. "The hell?"

_"Dean, do not fret. It's only me."_

Dean blinked, dumbfounded, because did the cat just talk?

_"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. I am merely projecting my voice into your mind."_

Of course. Because projecting a voice into someone's mind isn't ridiculous. "Cas?" Really, he should have known. With that strange blue gaze, who else could it be? "Why are you in a kitten?"

Castiel's head dipped down, his ears drooping. If he were human, then it would have been his sigh._ "Something was wrong with my vessel. They have taken it for a short while in order to fix it."_ There was a moment of silence before the cat continued. _"I did not... feel right in another human vessel."_

Dean's lips turned up in a smirk. "So you became a cat?"

The look he received, if Cas were human, would have made him shiver. Considering that he was wearing the body of a tiny kitten just made it adorable. He found it interesting that even as a cat, Castiel had the same mannerisms.

The hunter grinned and picked the cat up, ignoring the small hiss. He brought the kitten up in front of his face. "God, you're so tiny!" When he glanced down, his eyebrows raised. "And a girl. Are you aware that you're in a girl kitten?"

_"Dean, I have told you before; I have no gender. It means nothing to me."_ Cas batted at his nose with a soft paw, the claws in.

And of course, Sam chose that moment to wander into the kitchen. The moose stopped upon seeing Dean with the cat, eyebrows hidden up in his hair somewhere. "Why are you holding a cat? Dean, please don't hurt the kitten. I'm sure it didn't do anything to you."

Dean glared at his brother. "It's Cas, you ass. Something is messed up with his Jimmy-look-a-like, so he had to pick a new vessel for a little while." He would have let Castiel explain himself -or was it herself?- but quite frankly, he wanted Sam to believe that the Angel could only meow.

Sam looked a bit confused, but he shrugged in reply, obviously too tired to investigate further for now.

Castiel let out what sounded like a growl, and since when do kittens growl?, before disappearing and reappearing back on the table, accompanied by the sound of wings. The kitten sat down on her hindlegs, tail wrapped around the front of her, head held high. _"It appears that I am tired."_

Dean grinned at the kitten before glancing over at Sam, making sure that Castiel only spoke into his mind. When Sam just walked passed him to the fridge, he nodded at the cat. "Well, if Sam is up then it is way too fucking early to be awake. Lets head on upstairs and we can cuddle."

Castiel tiled her head to the side, her blue eyes wide._ "I cannot 'cuddle', Dean, I am an animal."_

The man ignored Cas, picking her up in his arms and walking out of the kitchen, heading upstairs to his room, which he had been sharing with Castiel for a couple of weeks. "That's alright. Just look cute, I'll do the rest."

Castiel seemed to find this acceptable, because she began purring loudly.


	17. Angel Kitty 2

**Collection of drabbles.**

**Dean x Castiel  
**

**Summary: Castiel's human vessel is out of commission, so he has to make due with another one for a while.  
**

**Part 2, as requested by someone on Tumblr.  
**

**Warning: Extreme cuteness.  
**

**Note: If you want more of something, then just ask, and I'll write it! I'll take any prompts!  
**

* * *

Castiel has been a kitten for a few days now. Apparently she, since the kitten is a girl, has yet to receive any news from Heaven as to when she was getting her human vessel back. When she talks about it, Castiel seems to have an irritated tone, though Dean knew that secretly, she liked being a cat.

For example, she was always following Dean around. He's barely left the house since the Angel had changed vessels, staying inside and doing things like watching Dr. Sexy, or sometimes reading a book or two. Cas liked to lie next to him, or more often on him, cuddled with him while he was sleeping, demanding to be put up on the table while he ate. With her wide blue eyes, soft pink nose, and the tilt of the head that was usually accompanied by a demand, Dean couldn't refuse Castiel anything.

At the moment, Dean was sitting on the couch, leaned over onto the arm slightly, remote in one hand. His other hand was busy petting Castiel, whom was on his lap purring contentedly. She nuzzled Dean's hand, pink tongue darting out to lick one of the fingers before going back to paying attention to the TV.

He gazed down at the cat fondly, a smile on his face. Being a cat must be so easy. Could sleep all you want, your litter box smelled nice, food and water was always laid out, you could cuddle, and get away with anything because you're so cute.

Of course, Castiel, since she's an Angel, didn't need to sleep or eat. She sometimes laid down for a little while, just enjoying being lazy, but that was about it.

The purring stopped, and Cas tilted her head up at him, blue eyes wide. _"Dean? Why did you stop petting me?"_

He had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He found it hilarious that the cat could project her thoughts into his mind. And days later, Castiel still only talked to him. Profound bond, and all. Sam thought that Castiel had lost all ability to communicate, and so was always confused when Dean answered her out loud. "Sorry, Cas. Got distracted." He resumed petting the kitten, keeping his eyes on her until she started purring once more.

Dean could feel her claws kneading his thigh through his jeans, but of course Cas got a pass on that one, just because she's so damn _cute_.

_"I'm afraid I still do not understand this show," _Castiel mumbled into his mind, confused at the recent actions of the doctors.

"Don't worry, we have plenty of time to catch up." Dean grinned.


	18. Deal 2

**This is a sequel to Chapter 13 "Deal", as requested by zabani-chan.**

* * *

It seemed that one moment Dean was having one of the worst moments in his life, and then it was just... gone.

It had been happening frequently for year or so, but the memories just kept getting stronger the more he tried to ignore them. Maybe it was some psychology thing, and he knew that he could always ask Sam about it, but then Sam would have other questions.

Dean wasn't quite ready to answer his little brother's questions.

And so one moment he was staring into some poor girl's abdonmen, and the next he was back in the motel room, sitting on the bed.

The hunter blinked slowly, his eyebrows furrowing. He knew that something had been wrong, but he couldn't pinpoint exactly what.

Only a few seconds had passed by when Castiel suddenly appeared in the room, stumbling forward a step before rightening himself.

"You alright, Cas?"

The Angel looked pale, a little shaky, and his eyes weren't focuses properly. Had he been a human, Dean might've said that he was looking sick.

"I'm fine, Dean. How are you?"

Dean quirked an eyebrow at the question but shrugged his shoulder. "Not entirely sure. I feel almost like something's..."

"Missing. I know."

Castiel moved forward, and although he would usually stop within a few feet of Dean, he kept walking until he was only a couple of inches away.

"Wait, Cas, what do you mean 'you know'? The hell'd you do?"

"I took them away. I should have realized I would have to do it earlier. You were breaking, Dean, and I couldn't..." Castiel cleared his throat, suddenly eeming awkward. "I couldn't just stand by anymore."

The room was silent for a couple of seconds until Dean finally realized just what he was missing.

"Hell! I don't remember it, but I was there. For years. I- Cas, you didn't..."

The Angel shook his head and reached out with one hand, placing it on the hand print on Dean's shoulder. "But I did. I'll be fine, Dean. It's worth it."

Dean glanced down at the hand pressed up against the fabric of his shirt, but not before seeing the pained look in Castiel's eyes. It looked almost like fire.

* * *

**Please note that the reason that Castiel reacted differently to the memories than he had Sam's is because Dean had tortured people while in Hell, while Sam had not. Castiel can deal with the pain of being tortured, but he's never quite been the one to do the torturing.**


	19. Leadership

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: End!verse fic where Dean and Cas meet out by the impala every night for a smoke.**

* * *

Being a leader is hard. A leader is never allowed to fall, or stall, or take a moment to himself. A leader has to stay strong, has to be brave, and courageous. A leader can't ever have doubt, and if he does, he mustn't show it to those that follow him.

Leadership was always Dean's problem. Ever since he was a child, he's been looked up to. Sam's looked up to him his entire life, and others fell behind. Now there was an entire camp full of people that looked up to him.

Maybe that's why Dean finds it so easy to be around Cas now, though only when they're alone. Cas doesn't judge, and he doesn't look up to Dean, at least not anymore. The only place Cas tends to look now is into his bottle of pills.

It should probably bother him more than it should, but Dean tries not to let it get to him. After all, Dean needs this, and Cas is more than willing to comfort as long as he gets his, too.

When everyone but the survivors standing guard are asleep in their cabins, Dean heads out to the place that he used to call home. The impala hasn't worked for a long time, and probably never will again. She's broken down, worn out, and used up. Only real difference between her and Dean is that he still has to keep going.

Cas looks up as Dean opens the driver's door, giving a nod to the ex-angel before settling into the seat. The door stays open; it no longer opens from the inside.

Neither of them break the silence, to which Dean is grateful. All day he's talked to, people either complaining or demanding. It's quiet that he needs, and like usual, Cas is quick to help however he can.

The joint that Cas was smoking on is passed over, and Dean takes it between his fingers without so much as a grunt of thanks. He brings it to his mouth, takes a deep drag, and leans his head back against the seat, holding the smoke in as long as possible before sighing it out.

Cas smiles and reaches to claim his joint back. In a way, the broken down impala is still home for both of them. Two people, shells of what they used to be, meeting inside a shell of a home. In here, Dean isn't a leader. He's just another person trying to survive the night.


	20. Colt 1911 A1

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: Dean's always been okay with normal sex, but everyone has fantasies and kinks, including him. Castiel is more than willing to allow Dean to share those.**

* * *

When Dean looks away from him during sex, Castiel can't help but notice.

It's not like they're the most perfect couple out there, or that their sex is always intimate and loving, but usually neither of them ever just looks away from the other. Loss of eye contact happens because of the pleasure, the sensations overloading the body until they just need to feel instead of see.

So when Dean looks away, Castiel reached forward with both of his hands to catch Dean's face between his palms, angling the other's face so that they could look at each other.

"Dean? Is everything alright?"

The hunter nodded, smiling lightly. "Everything's fine. I just..."

"You just what?" When Dean wouldn't answer, Castiel frowned, poking at Dean's mind just slightly with his Grace. After a moment, he made an understanding noise. "Ahh, I see. You want to try something... unconventional."

Dean narrowed his eyes, grunting. "You said you wouldn't do that mind reading shit on me."

"If you want a false apology, I'll give you one."

Dean sighed and shook his head, leaning back so that he's not completely on top of Castiel. The angel's fingers play along his arm, and the loving gesture amidst everything else makes him shiver.

"Okay, fine. I've been... curious about something, alright?" When Cas didn't say anything, he grumbled for a moment and then continued. "I didn't wanna ask because it seems, well, weird. And I mean, you're an angel, I'm sure you have your sinly lines, and-"

Castiel chuckled lightly, running the pad of his thumb over Dean's bottom lip. "Anything you ever ask of me, I will do out of love. Love is not a sin, Dean."

They'd had this conversation before, at least one similar to it. Dean still didn't exactly agree with Castiel, but he didn't want to get into it, especially not now.

When it seemed like Dean wasn't going to continue, Castiel sighed and nodded his head. "You may ask anything of me. No matter how odd, or sinful, you think it is." As an afterthought, he added a 'please,' hoping that maybe it would get Dean to think that by telling Cas his desires, he was actually fulfilling one of Cas's own wishes. In a way, he was.

Dean licked his lips and looked away once more, though this time over to the bag in the corner of the room. Castiel followed his gaze, an eyebrow raised. "I have a thing for... well, guns."

By the look that Castiel got from the other, it was obvious that he expected some sort of response. "...Okay."

The hunter let out an aggravated breath and got out of the bed, pulling out of Castiel in the process. The angel let his legs fall back down onto the bed from their previous position of being wrapped around Dean's waist.

When Dean came back, he held one of his guns in his hand. "I've had this one for a while. Colt 1911 A1, .45 caliber."

A smile crossed Castiel's face, and he nodded. "I'm aware. That's the gun you used to teach me how to properly shoot." The memory was a fond one, and by the look on Dean's face, the hunter thought so as well.

Dean shook his head and licked his lips, taking a deep breath before continuing. "That's not the only thing I want to use the gun for, Cas." He climbed back onto the bed, apparently wishing to make his desire known by tapping the muzzle of the gun against Castiel's stomach and slowly trailing down his skin.

The angel stayed splayed out on the bed, his head tilting to the side, his eyes locked on Dean's face. Dean looked positively... enraptured, watching the descent of his weapon on Castiel's body. He lifted his legs, exposing himself. When Dean looked up, shock written on his face, he smiled, nodding. "Anything for you," he whispered.

Dean looked almost conflicted before surging forward, pressing his lips to Castiel's with a noise that they both knew would never be brought up again. Their tongues intertwined for a moment, then Dean pulled away just enough to speak, their breath mingling between their faces.

"The safety is on," Dean promised, having had checked when he took it out of the bag.

Castiel ran his fingers through Dean's hair, and though he nodded, he replied, "You can't hurt me."

"The safety is on," he repeated.

Something in Dean's eyes changed for a moment, and Castiel nodded, wanting that something to go away. Seemingly satisfied, the hunter grabbed the lube off of the pillow on the top of the bed, where it was thrown earlier when they thought they were done with it.

Looking down at the colt, Castiel licked his lips. "Will that break it?"

"It's not gun lubricant, but it'll be fine. Just gotta clean it later," Dean mumbled, his face flushing at the thought of even using the colt again after this. He'd probably never be able to shoot the thing again without getting a hard-on.

Dean squeezed a good amount of lube right on the metal of the gun, using his hands to make sure it's completely covered before putting some inside, as well. Couldn't be too careful, after all.

By the time he finished, Dean almost thought that he was going to explode, and he gave the base of his cock a light squeeze before settling his legs under himself and pulling Castiel up so that the other's ass was just barely on his knees.

Cas put his legs up on Dean's shoulders, figuring that it would be easier in that position: Dean obviously wanted to watch as he fucked him with his gun. The hunter let out a breathy moan just seeing it, and then lined up the muzzle with Castiel's entrance.

Luckily they had already done the prepping earlier, even if Cas didn't really need it. Like he had said earlier: he couldn't be hurt, not really. Either way, that wasn't the point, and Dean was glad that the tip of the gun slid inside with little resistance. The gun wouldn't be able to reach far because of the trigger safety, unfortunately.

Dean pushed the muzzle in further, almost able to feel the way that the engravings on the slide rubbed against Castiel's walls. Cas let out a breathy moan, and Dean's eyes moved from the angel's clenched hole up to his eyes.

Castiel's breath hitched at the look on Dean's face; the hunter's pupils were almost completely blown, the green around the edges darken with lust. It made him have to lick his lips and take a deep breath before saying what he was going to say before the other looked up at him.

"The coldness of the metal. It's-It's different."

Dean pulled the gun out almost completely before shoving it back inside, reveling in the broken moan that he got in return. Castiel gripped the sheets underneath him as Dean began pumping the colt in and out, going right to the trigger safety.

His mind went to the thought of using a bigger gun, seeing Castiel stretched around the barrel of a shotgun, but he shook his head to clear himself of the image. This was enough. Just the fact that Cas was letting him do this...

Dean's free hand went to Castiel's cock, lifting it from where it had been leaking onto the angel's stomach so that he could stroke in time with the thrusts of the gun. Castiel panted, squeezing down on the metal inside of him, and it gave Dean an idea.

With a lick of the lips, the hunter pulled the trigger, dry firing inside of Castiel. The angel's body jumped, either from the burst of air or the shock. Dry firing inside of a human would surely end badly, but Castiel could take it easily. Whereas a bullet would literally tear through flesh only to be healed, the pressure of a dry fire probably only caused pleasure.

Curious to see if he was right, Dean pumped the colt in and out of Castiel's ass a few more times before firing again, and the moan of pure pleasure made Dean smirk. "Well, well. Looks like you're enjoying this more than you thought you would."

Castiel's head tilted down so that he could watch the human, licking a line of blood off of his lips from where he bit his tongue. "Dean," he groaned, rolling his hips in an attempt to get the hand on his cock to move.

Dean chuckled but did as asked, stroking the shaft of Castiel's dick almost harshly, his thumb teasing the head with every upward stroke. His own cock had gotten barely any attention, but it was already fully hard and throbbing. Just seeing Castiel like this, face red and panting from having a gun up his ass was almost enough to send Dean to the edge.

Castiel bit his bottom lip and moaned out a "more," pushing himself down on the barrel of the gun. Dean glanced down as the angel just barely stretched around the trigger safety, letting out a groan of his own.

The Winchester fired again, and that was all it took; Castiel came with a shout, spilling over Dean's hand and clenching around the colt so hard that it was impossible to move it. Dean moved his hand from the gun and began stroking himself with quick movements. He hit his orgasm before Castiel finished riding out his, coming onto his favorite gun.

After a minute or so of both of them just trying to catch their breath, Dean laughed.

Castiel looked down at him, his chest rising and falling in a normal pace. "Was that what you were too worried to tell me?"

Looking up at Castiel, the muzzle of the gun still inside of him and come over his body, Dean didn't know why he was ever worried about telling the angel what he desired anyway. He slowly pulled the gun out of Castiel's body, knowing that he was probably sensitive, and set it to the side before crawling up to take his angel's face between his hands.

"No reason to worry," he whispered, bringing their lips together.


	21. Closets and Faeries

**This story is a collection of drabbles that I write.**

**Implied Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: Crack!fic where the door to a closet suddenly swings closed and is supernaturally sealed in place, trapping Dean inside. And then the fic is about Sam and Cas desperately trying to get Dean out of the closet.**

* * *

To be fair, Sam has told Dean many times to not rush right into where there's supposed to be bad guys. Maybe things could happen: a bullet shot, a spell done, a werewolf attacking, demons appearing. But time and time again, Dean doesn't listen.

Which is why when Dean gets himself into a predicament no one is particularly surprised.

This doesn't make it any less annoying, however.

"Dean, I told you-"

"Sam, I swear, do not even. Get me the hell out of here!"

Sam looks over at Castiel with bitchface number 743- the angel has been counting. It takes a moment, but the younger brother sighs and walks forward to the door, shouting a "Get back" before kicking it.

Surprisingly, the door holds, not even budging. This makes Castiel frown and move forward himself. Sam is a big guy, and should have easily been able to kick a closet open.

"Well, that's weird." Sam goes to kick again, but the angel moves in front of him, bending slightly in order to see something on the edge of the door frame.

"Sam, I don't believe you will be able to knock the door down."

Sam leans over, trying to see whatever it was that Castiel had noticed. "Why not?"

"Faerie charm. I'm not certain if it was meant for Dean or not but nevertheless, strength won't be able to open it."

An almost-whine comes from inside said closet. "If I'm stuck in here-"

"Relax," Castiel interjects, moving back from the door. "It's a fairly easy fix, though it would mostly take days if I were not here."

There's a moment of silence where Sam thinks to himself that they're really lucky to have an angel on their side, and where Dean just really wants Cas to do whatever needed to get him out of the closet.

"Annnnnd?" Dean prompts.

The angel shrugs his shoulders, moving his eyes to Sam. "Unsurprisingly, it needs Faerie Dust. It would be fairly difficult to get on your own, but I know just the place."

"You just know of random Faerie nests?"

Castiel pauses before answering, not wanting to say something that would make the hunters go after the Faeries. "Ones that aren't dangerous, at least," he finally replies.

Without waiting for a response, Castiel disappears, presumably off to find the dust needed.

Meanwhile, Sam raises an eyebrow at the door. Now that they knew it wasn't any real danger, he figured he would at least amuse himself with it. "So, I see that you're in the closet."

"Sam. I'm serious."

"You should come out. I mean, I wouldn't judge you or anything, even though you did walk right in there. Cas will be back to get you out of the closet any time now."

"This is so not funny. How about you trade places with me, and you get in the closet?"

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't hear you. I think you're too far back in the closet. Come forward a little, out of Narnia."

"Sam-"

Thankfully enough, for Dean at least, Castiel chose that moment to appear with a soft flutter. After a clearing of the throat, Sam decides it's probably best not to mention the slight glitter on the angel's face.

"Cas? You get it?"

Castiel almost rolled his eyes, but instead moves forward, getting down on one knee and pulling a velvet baggie out of his trenchcoat pocket. "I'm going to stuff the bag under the door. You need to sprinkle it on yourself."

Unable to hold in his laughter, Sam almost succeeds in choking on his own tongue before bursting.

"...Are you for real?"

The angel's eyebrows furrowed, nodding even though he knew Dean couldn't see. "Yes. I can't get in myself to do it, or I-"

"Okay, okay. I get it. Push the damn bag under the door."

Sam grins, leaning against the wall on the other side of the room to watch the exchange. There's almost a minute of waiting before there's a soft click, then Castiel opens the door to the closet.

"Dean?"

"Umm, yeah. I'm good. Just, uhh..."

When Dean comes out of the closet, he's covered in bright coloured Faerie Dust, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Sam once again bursts out laughing, but Castiel, not seeing what's so amusing, just simply smiles at Dean.

Dean scowls at his brother and attempts to pat the dust out of his hair before sidestepping Castiel, wanting to just go back into the closet and hide, but heading out of the building. "Whatever," he grumbles.


	22. Nephilim

**This story is a collection of drabbles I write.**

**Dean x Castiel**

**Prompt: If the child of a demon and a human is an Anti-Christ, then what about the child of an angel and a human?**

* * *

Apparently the key to finally closing the gates of Heaven and Hell is a child. But not just any child, a child with special powers, with the Grace of an angel but the soul of a human. A child of a human and an angel: a Nephilim.

It actually made a little sense. The child of a human and a demon is an Anti-Christ, the downfall of angels. It was only fair that there was one for the other half.

Nephilim have a lot of lore behind them, but there's never been an actual sighting or record of one in the hunter community. After meeting Uriel, Dean was pretty sure that angels couldn't even have sex, let alone children, but then Gabriel came along, who seemed to be quite content when it came to the sex part of the equation.

The fact that Gabriel didn't manage to father some little angel babies was weird enough, but then Castiel explained. Angels need a bond with the human in order to produce offspring, because apparently the transition of the Grace is a pretty big deal. Before the civil war, angels and humans had never really interacted much, besides the collection of souls and the cherubim forcing couplings, so there never came a bond strong enough in order to create a Nephilim.

Dean had scoffed at the whole thing, considering that they couldn't wait for an angel to bond with a human. They didn't have forever after all, what with the demons riding them on one end, the angels themselves on the other. When Dean had mentioned this aloud, Sam just looked at him like he was stupid before walking out, leaving his brother staring at Castiel in confusion.

Castiel was actually a bit slow in clearing it up, probably a little shy about the whole ordeal, but Dean had managed to catch on quickly enough. They had been together for a while, eventually having to admit their feelings for each other, but this was quite a big deal. It took a while for Dean to finally cave, took until Castiel locked their eyes, softened his voice, and said he understood.

The process was actually quite simple. Sex was involved, mostly for completing the bond, but the actual carrying of the baby wasn't. Dean was grateful, and Castiel explained that it's because the child will be born of their soul and grace, not their bodies.

There was a ritual involved; Dean saying his side in Latin and Castiel speaking Enochian. At the end there was a bright light blue light, bright enough to force both human and angel to close their eyes in fear of being blinded.

When the light finally subsided, there was a baby floating between them, a small ball of Grace formed around it. Small wings were on the infant's back, the feathers looking as though they were barely hanging on.

It reminded Dean almost like a baby bird.

Later, Castiel explained that the child would grow rather rapidly until it reaches maturity. Until then it had to be taught by both human and angel; how to use its Grace and how to use a gun. They had to train the Nephilim as much as they could before it had to close the gates for good.

Until then, it was still their kid. Dean and Castiel both lie on the bed, the toddler between them. It had only been a couple of days, but the baby already looked as though it were a year old.

"We have to name him," Dean announced, his eyes moving up to meet Castiel's.

The angel's fingers stilled from where they were petting the toddler's wings, and he nodded. "Indeed we do." It took a couple of minutes for him to speak up again. "How about Robert?"

Dean looked up in surprise. "He doesn't need some angelic name?"

Castiel's lips went up in a small smile, reaching across their child in order to tap Dean's jaw with his thumb. "If they insist, then they can call him Rophiel," he joked.

Robert. Dean nodded, happy with the name. "Alright then. Looks like we got ourselves a little Bobby."

Sure, the world may be ending, but the Apocalypse could wait.


End file.
